Sorry, Baby

Sorry, Baby is one of the most nuanced, simple yet complex telling of the effects and aftermath of a traumatic event in the life of a bright, energetic and youthful woman. Beautifully written, directed and brought to screen with a very balanced, sensitive and realistic performance by debutant Eva Victor. The movie is truly deserving of its premiere and writing award at Sundance and being the closing movie of the director's fortnight at Cannes.

Eva Victor tells her story in a non chronological manner by moving forward and backward in time through five specific chapters representing five very different years of her life. This non linear approach highlights her emotional journey and augments the story telling significantly. The story is simple and the pace of the movie is slow but it is this slow pace and focus on the lead characters subdued emotions when alone mixed with phases of elation when in the company of her best friend that makes the movie so effective.

Eva does a brilliant job channeling the emotions of disappointment, disillusionment, isolation, grief, anxiety and anger mixed with those of hope, resilience and healing. At no point it appears that she is acting and that is what makes her performance and the movie special. Don't expect any cinematic fireworks as Eva makes the audience truly experience the lead character's emotional journey through trauma. Delicate, authentic and realistic. 8/10.

There is something especially individual about the lead characterisation here, and even though Eve Victor delivers strongly, I just didn't really engage with it. We conclude fairly swiftly that her "Agnes" has suffered some trauma in her life and that now, in her late twenties, she has taken up a professorial job in a small rural community where she seems content to live en seul. Except, that is, until her friend "Lydia" (Naomie Ackie) comes to visit. She and her new girlfriend are expecting a baby and though joyous of the news, it seems to awaken in "Agnes" an appreciation of a hitherto subdued sense of loneliness. During this visit, and thereafter, the plot dances between timelines as we learn more about both women, particularly "Agnes" and along the way are put through quite an emotional wringer. There is a degree of humour here, but it's not the giggle sort - more along the observational, story of life, line that is often quite relatable but frequently swamped in a surfeit of dialogue. It also strays into the melodramatic one too often, too - not least as it descends a little into a well of self-pity that isn't really supported by any depth of likeable characterisation. Ultimately, I think that was probably my issue with "Agnes" here. I just couldn't really empathise with her, despite the heinous nature of the incident, and though entirely justifiable, I found her just a little too self-centred. Sorry, baby, but I just felt fairly underwhelmed and uncomfortably disconnected all the way through.

I have never walked out of a film before, but I almost did. I'm glad I did not as the film won me over. At first, the absurdly goofy and one dimensional characters and dialog was a turn off. I certainly don't know anyone above the age of ten that acts/talks that way. And the costume "designer" should either never work again, or get an Oscar for the impossibly tasteless and frumpy outfits the lead and a few other actors wore.

But as it settled in, the quiet tone and the lead's obviously neurodivergent behavior made more sense. And the subsequent scenes with her next door neighbor "boyfriend", the sandwich shop owner and the baby at the end of the film were sweet. Ultimately, I got a viewpoint that made me think about it later, and that is what makes art worthwhile.

Sorry, Baby was a movie I hadn't heard about or read any reviews. So, I went in not knowing what to expect.

Agnes (Eva Victor) is a full professor (!) in her 20's (!!!) at some unidentified small college that seems to be in northern Massachusetts by the seashore. Agnes is kind of quirky, a little off at times and obviously a loner. Her one good friend, Lydie (Naomi Ackie), has left the house they shared - platonically - and moved on to a career and a relationship in NYC. Lydie then comes for a visit and they are both very chill and at ease with one another in a nice way. Lydie then reveals that she is pregnant. The movie then bounces back to when they and some friends were working on their dissertations three or so years a ago, then to the more immediate term of the past year or so and then jumps ahead to the not too distant future when Lydie has had her child.

All through the focus is on Agnes and a trauma she experienced (no spoiler) and how she is coping and how mostly Lydie helped her. The mood bounces from stress, to being poignant and the to being funny - but none of it laugh out loud funny. It's a quirky portrait of single childless cat lady (yes, there is a cat featured pretty significantly) without really embracing that concept for self-deprecation or for self-affirmation. The movie meanders, which is nice for a change, yet doesn't really make any kind of impact one way or another. Sorry, Baby is just there.

Sorry, Baby won't be everyone's cup of tea - and I would recommend waiting for it to come out on streaming.

Sorry, Baby is a slow burn-it takes its time to build tension, and for a while, you're not quite sure where it's going or what it's about. But that's what makes it work. The early pacing is essential; it lets you settle into the characters and truly get to know them before the tension creeps in and the stakes start to rise.

The acting is incredible-subtle, restrained, and deeply natural. It's a masterclass in quiet, grounded performance. There's a scene where the lead delivers a monologue in the tub, and it doesn't feel like she's reciting lines. We're with her in that memory. We're seeing what she saw. I got the sense that some of the film may have been improvised, but if so, it only added to the realism. The whole film has a lived-in, organic quality.

That said, a few of the smaller supporting roles toward the end didn't quite land for me and briefly took me out of the experience. And I'm still unsure what Agnes wanted-what her internal drive was. There's such beautiful artistic depth here, but I couldn't fully grasp what was pushing her forward. Then again, maybe that's the point, as hinted in the final monologue.

There's also powerful symbolism throughout. One moment that stood out was her driving, the headlights trailing behind her like a new memory that will chase her forever. Another was the way the passage of time was expressed through visual shifts, especially at the professor's home. These moments are executed with both restraint and emotional weight.

The film resists cliché. One of its most striking choices is its sense of timelessness. You can't quite place what year it's set in-there are no cell phones, the clothing is neutral, and her thesis is typed on paper rather than submitted digitally. If I had to guess, I'd say 1998. I caught a glimpse of an older New York license plate that reinforced that impression.

Ultimately, Sorry, Baby delivers a quiet but profound message about humanity: we have to be prepared to live in an imperfect world. We will get hurt-that's just part of it-but we have to find a way to keep going.